


Trojan Horse

by ephona



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Reality, Gen, i mean we can pretend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5304947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephona/pseuds/ephona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrollo is finally freed of his sealed Nen only to find out what has happened since he's been gone including the death of one of his comrades . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trojan Horse

The house had been abandoned for some time.  It had either been someone’s getaway cabin in the woods or a trading post of some sort. Peeling wallpaper and crackling drywall added to the musty smell caused by rotting wood, dust and mold.  Roaches and rats had made their home within the dark corners of the structure, gnawing at the old carpet and beams.  If anyone had lived here recently, they sure didn’t bother to clean before they left as there were old clothes and other kinds of junk thrown across the floor.  Since the electricity and gas had been vacant for some time, a few candles lit the main room of the house.  Sitting on the old couches and chairs were five individuals, all of them in an almost solemn silence.  They’d been waiting almost in the same positions and forced silence for hours making nothing more than a few peeps now and then to ask each other questions and check on the other’s wellbeing.  One offered to play cards to pass the time but no one would oblige.  One had even suggested an arm wrestling match to take their minds off things but to no avail.   It was around this time, in the old broken down house, that the door to the next room over opened and a man with vibrant red hair and an equally vibrant smile on his face strutted out.

“Hey, why the long face guys?  Machi?”

With a huff, Machi stood up, her arms folded.  “Is he okay?”

“Aw, come on, why are you always so cold, Machi?”

Franklin, the unofficial leader at the moment, also stood up but not with intention to play around. “Hisoka, was it a success?  Don’t beat around the bush again.  I don’t have to treat you nicely since you left the Troupe.”

With a shrug of his arms, he let out a defeated sigh.  “Sorry, Sorry.  I just thought we could still be buddy-buddy.  But I’ll answer you.  Yes, it worked.”

“W-wait? Really?”

“It took some loopholes and doing but Abengane over here says the Nen should be gone.” Hisoka leaned against the crooked wall.  

“So if he’s wrong, we can kill him, right?”

“No, I want to kill him.”

“He’s not one of us anymore, Nobunaga.  We don’t have to listen to his demands.” Franklin pushed his way towards the door without even a glance at the flamboyantly dressed man.  One giant hand pressed opened the door into the next room. It was still part of the old house but the roof had caved in sending splinters of wood to the ground and leaving a gaping hole up towards the sky.  In the middle of the room, the remains of a large bonfire smoldered away into warm embers and ashes.  On the right side of the room, Abengane sat down on an old wooden beam covered in ivy and weeds, his head hung low and his chest trembling with deep breaths.  On the other side sat another man no older than the dark-skinned Abengane.  He was half naked, only a torn pair of pants covering his lower half while his muscular chest was exposed to the world.  His face looked ghostly pale, sweat drenching his hairline and neck.  The large jacket he usually wore lay crumpled in a pile on the ground next to his feet.  More striking than that or the cross tattooed on his forehead was what almost looked like a large scar exactly over his heart that seemed to be oozing fresh blood.  He had his elbows on his knees and one hand holding his head.  His large eyes stayed fixed on an unknown spot on the ground, glazed over.  Only his dark irises moved as the five entered the space.  

Franklin was the first to speak.  “Dancho, are you okay?”

The man said nothing. His eyes just wandered around to the smoldering embers and then to Abengane across the room from him.  “Is it over?”

“Yes.  The process should be finished.” He spoke without any indication of emotion in his voice.  

“Are you sure?”

“Sir, I’m positive. Please don’t doubt my powers after I went through all that trouble.”

Beads of sweat rolled down their leader’s forehead.  For someone who was normally collected, cool and contemplative, his expression spoke of pent up anxiety and caution.  He knitted his fingers together while his elbows rested on his knees; they shook like scraggly twigs in the wind.  He slowly turned his body towards Franklin.

“F … Franklin?” The instant the words came out of his lips, color poured back into his face and his nervous look dissipated.  A hand shifted over the wound on his chest and he let out a small gasp.  

“What, Dancho? Dancho, is something wrong?”

“No, No, nothing at all is wrong.” Each time he breathed, his smile grew.  He quickly lept to his feet, knees still knocking, ran towards Franklin and fell right into his large, burly arms.  “Oh my god, it’s over.  It’s finally over.”

Franklin uttered his nickname under his breath understanding exactly why the strong figure they all looked up to as a leader and friend was now reduced to a meek child.  He returned the hug.  “Yes, it’s over.  Welcome back, Chrollo.”

From the left corner of the room, Hisoka placidly watched as the present members of the Troupe gathered around Franklin and their rescued leader.  Chrollo was met with more embraces from Nobunaga who caused both of them to finally let go of the waterworks gumming up under their eyelids. Nobunaga’s gross sobbing of joy could be heard for miles.  Kortopi had shuffled over, a gleam in his eye that no one could really read.  He repeated Franklin’s sentiment of ‘welcome back’, offering his hand out to shake.  Hisoka was particularly intrigued to see the usually stoic and cold Machi give Chrollo a quick, sincere hug showing a brief moment of tenderness before going back to normal, old Machi.  

Those few soft and human-like moments that followed the band of thieves lasted for about five minutes before Chrollo spoke again.  He had so much in his mind over the months of being tortured with not being able to even speak to his own comrades.  The moments before his tongue was bound were still as fresh in his mind as the day the Troupe was formed.  He released himself from Nobunaga’s arms again and turned to look at the four of them. “Where are the others?”

“I guess there’s some sort of infestation back home,” Nobunaga said curtly.  “Fei and Phinks took the others to go fix it.  Including this new girl! Right! Dancho, we’ll have to introduce you to the newest Spider!  I think you’ll really like he—“

“Is Pakunoda with them? I need to speak with her.”

“Ah—“ Nobunaga’s words stuck deep within his neck.  The atmosphere quickly changed from a happy reunion to a dark cloud of mourning. Machi turned her head away from any gazing eyes and walked back towards the door as if she had suddenly become ill. Both Franklin and Nobunaga’s faces drained of color and filled up with a drooping sadness.  “D-Dancho, P-Pakunoda, s-she—“

“What’s wrong?  What happened to Pakunoda?”

“D-Dancho, she …”

Franklin took over as Nobunaga’s eyes welded up with tears again and he collapsed down on one knee solemnly.  “She scarified herself for the good of the Troupe.  It’s thanks to her that we now know everything about Kurapika, The Chain User. She placed her final memories into six Memory Bombs and shot them into our heads before Kurapika’s Judgement Chain killed her.”

Chrollo froze in place. His eyes lost their luster of joy and turned into a dull blue as they drooped.  One hand trailed back over the clotting wound, squeezing into a fist right over it.  “No … so she met the same fate as …” The tears he choked back now tasted bitter as they ran down his cheeks.  His broad shoulders and strong neck slumped.  He put a hand on his forehead again, shielding his eyes as he gave up his battle against tears.  For a few seconds, he heard nothing but the sound of his own breathing and Pakunoda’s voice.  The last time he saw Pakunoda flashed through the front of his mind.  The dear woman he’d grown up with for years passed him briefly on her way to the airship.  They weren’t allowed to speak to each other due to the Judgment Chain around his heart and the conditions that had been issued. Now that he remembered that moment, he couldn’t look her in the eye even then.  There could have been an element of fear but most of it was his own disappointment.  True, at that moment, his displeasure with Pakunoda had blurred his mind but it had never occurred to him that could have been, and was, the last time he’d ever see her. Guilt quickly enveloped his soul. He couldn’t remember the last thing he’d said to her.  He was unable to speak for the entire time he was being held hostage and saw her visage. The thought of not knowing his last words to her was a horrible realization. He faintly felt someone touch his shoulder to comfort him.  Overbearing guilt soon turned to grief and then began to burn.  He swatted the hand (which was actually Franklin’s) off his shoulder.  His eyes still moist, he locked onto the very next person he blamed that wasn’t the Chain User.  The anger grew with each trudging step down the creaky wooden boards.  He’d even materialized his Theif’s Hand, potentially a bluff to showcase the severity of his brooding anger.  But, it worked enough to distract the man for the fraction of a second he needed.

“Hisoka!” Chrollo jabbed his fingers right into the magician’s shoulder, pinning him with Nen-enhanced strength to the beam of the corner.  There was tension in every muscle and a raging fire burning from within his body.  Chrollo had his lips curled up into almost an animalistic snarl.  “This is your fault, Hisoka!”

“What? My fault?” He didn’t seem a bit phased by Chrollo’s boldness.  “How is it my fault?”

“You knew who the Chain User was the instant he surfaced.  You knew exactly who he was.”

“And how does this make it my fault? Please, indulge me, Dancho.”

“Do  _not_  call me that!” His book already shut and dematerialized, he slammed his fist into the wall right next to Hisoka’s right ear. “I am not your Dancho anymore. You only have yourself to blame for that; stripping yourself of the position voluntarily.”

Hisoka chuckled.  “Oh, scary.  So are you blaming me for not telling you about Pakunoda?  Sorry. I didn’t know it was so important to you.”

“Hisoka,” Chorllo clamped his hand around Hisoka’s pale neck.  “I let you into my fold.  I know your heart.  You can say whatever you damn please but I know you’re just trying to provoke me.”

“Well it’s working.”

Chrollo took a step back, letting out a frustrated sigh.  “Yes, yes it is.”

“Well, Dancho,” He teased, “Are you going to answer me?  How is this my fault?  I never told Kurapika to do this.  It was his own free will.”

Chrollo stared at the mischievous magician long and hard.  “It’s the fact that you willfully withheld information from me regarding the Chain User.  We were in a crisis; we lost one of our members and you hid it all from us.  You hid it from me, Hisoka.”

Hisoka regained his carefree position against the wall, one heeled boot flush against the wall while he leisurely leaned backwards.  “It’s nothing personal towards you, stop making it sound so.  It was a mutual agreement on my part with Kurapika.”

“You _compromised_  with him?”

He shrugged, taking out some cards to shuffle.  “I joined the Troupe to get closer to you so I could fight you at your full power.  So when I met Kurapika at the Hunter Exam, I thought it might be fun to—“

“Having your friends die in cold blood is not fun, Hisoka.  Feeling useless because you couldn’t stop the very monster who hunted your friends down and killed them isn’t fun!”

“Come on, you know my idea of fun is a bit twisted, Dancho.”

Chrollo lunged at him again, grabbing a fistful of Hisoka’s hair and looking him straight in the eye. “I’m not in the mood for your sass right now, Hisoka.  I am not your Dancho anymore.  You are not part of the Troupe any longer.  Even if you wanted to come back, I wouldn’t let you.  You betrayed all of us.  Now listen to me,” He yanked Hisoka’s head upwards while the magician did nothing but shuffle his cards with the most bemused smile on his face.  “You know that when one disobeys the pact the Troupe has, they get punished.  Since you’re not part of the Troupe, I can’t punish you the way I want but I’m not going to let you walk away scratch free.”

He let out a low, sensual, chuckle.  “Oh? That so? You’re going to punish little old me, Dancho?”

“You will give me the information you willingly kept from me.  Give me all the information you know about the Chain User.  Numbers, places, friends, family … everything you know.” He waved a finger in his face.  “You’re not bound by the rules of the Troupe so he cannot kill you with his Nen.  You have nothing to fear from him any longer, am I right?”

“Never had any reason to fear him in the first place.”  He snatched Chrollo’s waving finger in his hand.  “How are you going to make me cough up the information, hm?  I could very well lie to you, give you false information, and you would never know until I was long gone.  Will you threaten it out of me?  Torture me?”

“If I find you give me any bit of false information, I will never fight you at full power.”

His smile quickly flew away. Hisoka pushed Chrollo off of him, untangling his fingers from his hair with a frustrated huff.  “So you’re not going to fight me right now?”

“What? No.”

“Even after I betrayed you? After keeping such tidbits of truths from you?”

“To do so would satisfy what you want.” Chrollo folded his arms.  “And I’m not in the mood to do that.  Not after you caused me this much pain.”

He sighed.  “I told you this wasn’t personal but I can’t stop you from thinking otherwise, I know.  Damn, why are you so smart?”

“It’s not hard to see through your bullcrap.” Machi piped up.  

Chrollo’s gaze never left Hisoka as the man paced in a circular pattern around him.  “Hisoka, tell me all you know.  You ‘suffering’ while I was without Nen is not good enough. It was my ignorance in trusting you that got Uvogin and Pakunoda killed and I will not let the Spider fall apart because of something I can fix.  Now, Hisoka! Stop stalling!”

“Fine, fine.  Don’t’ give yourself a heart attack after all of that work, Dancho.  You’ll break my heart more than it already is.”  He grudgingly put his cards away and took out his phone.  “I’ll text you the information.  I’ll even give you his phone number.”

Chrollo let out a relieved sigh.  “Thank you.”

“Just remember,” Hisoka said as his fingers tapped across the screen.  “Next time you grab me like that, I’m expecting you to try and rip my heart out.  Now that you have your Nen back, I want to finish what I started; engaged in a battle with you.”

“Once Kurapika is dead, I’ll kill you next.”


End file.
